Cursed
by the14th
Summary: Thunderfrost! Post-TDW! They called Thor the golden prince. They said he was blessed. With strength, a good heart, stunning looks, loving parents – with everything a good king needed. No one seemed to realise that, in fact, Thor was cursed. Cursed with a love and a desire that would never be satisfied. For Loki was dead – had died in his arms in the Dark World, for him.


They called Thor the golden prince. They said he was blessed. With strength, a good heart, stunning looks, loving parents – with everything a good king needed.

No one seemed to realise that, in fact, Thor was cursed.

Cursed with a love and a desire that would never be satisfied. For Loki was dead – had died in his arms in the Dark World, _for him_.

The people of Asgard were angry. Thor's friends were angry. The Allfather was angry. They did not understand why Thor could not overcome the grief and the love and the pain.

Loki had betrayed them all, and no one had forgiven or forgotten. No one except Thor, who sat in his chambers all day, isolated, lonely. For he longed for no one's company but the one's he would never see again.

He had tried, so hard, to conquer the sorrow but every attempt only made it clearer, that all he'd ever had, all he'd ever loved, was gone. Only in his death did Loki reveal his true significance. Or perhaps Thor had known all along. And perhaps that was the reason why he had pushed Loki away, pushed him down, to the ground and into the dirt, for such a long time. He had tried to struggle, to deny the fact that Loki was everything. As an adolescent he had refused to accept the fact, that there was no Thor without Loki. That he depended on him entirely. That's why he became the arrogant, vain fool he had been. That's why he had lost what truly mattered. Perhaps…

Or perhaps Loki was to blame… but no, even if that was everyone else's truth, it wasn't Thor's. It couldn't be for Thor was the only one who had ever known Loki. Who had ever bothered to understand.

Sleep didn't come to him anymore.

For Asgardians sleep was pure luxury; a lack of it, no matter how great, would never be lethal.

Thor sat still and silent all day, all night, eyes closed, focusing on the one thing that still defined him. His core was on fire with pain. His outside was calm. People came and they went, and Thor spoke, he smiled, sometimes he even ventured outside, fought battles, attended feasts, but he never truly left his isolation. Deep down he was still perched on his bed, eyes closed, still and silent, focusing on nothing but the pain and the loneliness.

There truly was no Thor without Loki. Loki had died, and Thor had followed him – all that was left was a hollow shell, containing his never-dying soul, that had been reduced to a fire of agony and despair.

When he returned from journey one night, he found Loki sat on the bed, exactly where he spent so many hours his lonesome life.

Thor stood in the doorway, frozen. But the tears that were welling his eyes didn't freeze. They sprung from his lids, through his lashes, down his cheeks, and eventually fell to the ground with a soft, light sound.

The possibility that it was an imposter, a trick, a trap, came to the thunderer's mind but he did not care. If he was being granted one mere moment believing his brother was alive again, he would take it and cherish it.

He did not stammer, did not doubt or ask how Loki was still alive, he just stared at him, relishing his beauty and revelling in his presence.

"I must admit I expected more." Loki said in his velvet voice, rising from the bed, smirking at Thor. "Has your grief turned you so dull, Thor?"

His leather-clad feet padded on the marble floor, as he took a few steps closer to the thunderer. "I expected," He shrugged, "Doubt. Rage. Joy, perhaps. But this…" He waved his hand at his brother's frozen figure. "This is quite boring, don't you think? An idiotic expression on your face and a few tears. Is that all I get after dying for you?"

A warm, tired, fond smile appeared on Thor's lips. He had missed him so terribly, every word coming from Loki's mouth was like a balm, a healing magic to his wounded soul.

Loki grinned. "Finally. I have watched you, Thor, and this is the first genuine smile I have seen on your lips since we last spoke." He took another step towards him.

"It was quite touching." He continued with mock his voice. "To see how devastated you were. To watch you," He grinned. "Fall apart. Struggling to maintain your façade – but failing miserably." A humourless chuckle followed.

Loki narrowed his eyes and drew even closer, until he was standing directly in front of Thor.

"Have you nothing to say to me..?" There was slight irritation surfacing in the trickster's voice, and he strode off again towards the window. "Will you just stand there, you giant oaf, speechless, boring the wits out of me?"

Thor had stared at Loki until the desire to do more than that prevailed. "Come." He said in a soft, low voice. "Come to me."

And Loki did, teasingly slowly and with a spiteful smile on his face, but he came closer until he was only a step away from his brother again. "What, Thor?" He asked, squinting his eyes, grinning. "What do you want?"

Thor reached out and gently palmed Loki's cheek. His hand rested there for a moment before it trailed up, pushing a loose strand of hair back and tucking it behind the trickster's ear.

"I have missed you." Thor said, still crying but smiling like a idiot. "Brother."

Loki huffed, pushing his hand away. "I am _not _your brother." He hissed and took a step back again. "You oaf. Will you never understand?"

He began to pace up and down the room, speaking frantically. "I have never been your brother. You cannot imagine how… _irritating_ it is that you keep refusing to understand. No matter what I do to prove it to you, you remain your idiotic, irritating self.

Hate me, Thor!" He spat. "Despise me!"

There was a moment of silence, before Loki threw his hands in the air in desperation.

"Punch me. Torture me. Hand me over to the Allfather. Just…" He glared at the thunderer with blazing eyes, full of rage. "Stop. Staring."

Thor closed his eyes, causing more tears to fall. He could not see Loki anymore, but he could hear him. Hear his breath, his feet carrying him closer again. He could not see him, but he could feel Loki's breath on his lips. "I could kill you." Loki said quietly, and Thor didn't have to open his eyes to know that he was holding a dagger in his hand.

"But doing things for a second time is always boring." Thor could hear Loki slipping the metal back into his pocket. "And I didn't reveal myself to you, didn't bring you back to life, just to kill you again."

Thor's breathing was deep and calm and he reached out to embrace his brother.

"Oh Thor, still the old sentimental fool." Loki taunted, but he didn't pull away. Instead he leaned his forehead against the thunderer's and in a soft voice he commanded, "Open your eyes."

And when Thor opened his eyes he could see that Loki was crying as well.

"I love you." Thor said, brushing their lips together and the gentlest of kisses.

"I know." Loki replied, sighing heavily. But then a spiteful chuckle rumbled through his throat. "You're an idiot to love me still."

Thor let out a soft laugh, holding Loki close. "Stay with me." His voice was soft and low and pleading. "Forever. Never leave me again."

"You know we can never be together." Loki replied, in an irritated voice and pulled away a little, but behind that irritation was a sadness that only Thor could detect. "We are not meant to be."

"We are not meant to be happy."

The insinuation sent fire through Thor's so far paralysed body and he had Loki pinned again the wall within an instant, kissing frantically, desperately.

Loki kissed back violently, biting Thor's lips until they were bleeding.

Thor gathered him in his arms and carried him to the bed, laying him down and taking him without another word. Loki let him.

When Thor collapsed onto him, spurting his seed into him, Loki smiled. Thor kissed him but he barely responded.

"I love you." Thor said again and Loki started to fade away.

Thor was lying on the bed, alone. Was it madness? Was it? Was it?

Or was it just one of Loki's tricks?

"Loki?" His voice sounded shrill as it broke the silence. There was no reply.

Thor stood and trudged to the window, his eyes taking in the view of golden Asgard. He knew he had to go. To search Loki. No matter where he was.

And he climbed onto the window sill, and took the step into nothing, wondering if he would summon Mjolnir or not.


End file.
